More than Twelve Nights
by Mary West
Summary: Draco is horrified to realize he's attracted to Hermes, the newest, brightest lad at the Ministry. He struggles with his realization that he's falling in love with the new boy despite behind completely straight - and finally, much later, discovers that Hermes is actually Hermione, who is very much a female, just in disguise.


This was begging to be a Twelfth Night sendup, so thank you to the original prompter for the chance. It also felt right to be an epistolary story. Thanks also to my dear friend Cheshire Bitten, whose descriptions of his own nights out gave me the makings of Hermes' underthings.

**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling makes such a lovely sandpit, and Shakespeare makes some gorgeous situations. Neither of them are responsible for my butchering of their characters and stories, and I get nothing but giggles and warm fuzzy feelings out of my work in their worlds. My apologies also to Charles Stross, who has warned us again and again of the dangers of Powerpoint.

* * *

12 Grimmauld Place

Jan 9th, 2017

Dear Severus,

I hope you and Harry are having a lovely time in Peru. I still can't believe I was there for fifteen years - when you two turned up, it was a shock more that it had been so long than to see you two together. But you were right. It was time to come back to London. Just be careful, and make sure you don't overstrain yourself, would you? Harry would never forgive you, much as he loves you.

The interview this morning went well. Luckily the cold weather meant I didn't look too odd dressed in a tweed three-piece suit, and I don't think anyone recognised me. After all, I _have _changed quite a lot in the last fifteen years. I didn't really recognise myself in the mirror, to be honest. The lighter hair helps, but more than that, the changes to my face from so many years of _Ziehl–Neelsen Dasypodidae_ infection are quite striking. I'm sure my cheekbones weren't nearly so prominent before. No, I'm not saying you shouldn't have cured me - I wouldn't have lasted more than another year if you hadn't. But it has made me fairly unrecognisable, even to a Weasley?

Yes, a Weasley. You didn't tell me that _Percy_ was Minister now! And he was on the interview panel - and didn't bat an eyelid when I walked in! I'm in shock still. The chest bindings help, of course, and the suit, and that little shading on the chin to look like a five o'clock shadow, but honestly, how could he have not noticed? Surely the packing doesn't make _that_ much of a difference.

Since the kids in Peru called me Jaime, which is pronounced as Hi-mee, I've decided to use a variation of that name - at least I'll answer to it. I'll work as _Hermes Stewart_, named after a distant cousin of mine who was also good at playing parts. And now, Hermes Stewart has been assigned to an undersecretary. A blond undersecretary. And possibly the one other person I would have been afraid would recognise me. That's right. Hermes Stewart is the latest Personal Assistant to … _Draco Malfoy_! No, I could hardly believe it myself. I think it's only Britain's completely sexist, biased and utterly discriminatory rules about Witches working that has made the workers at the Ministry completely oblivious to the fact that there might be … *gasp* … a Witch working among them.

I thought for a moment he _might_ have recognised me, but then he waved me to a seat, and started to interrogate me on my knowledge of current Muggle-liaison legislation. For which I must thank you also - if you hadn't made sure all the relevant rulebooks were in Grimmaud Place, I wouldn't have had a chance.

Anyway, I'm due at work tomorrow at 8am, and he's - Draco, that is - has already told me that

a) I'm to refer to him as "Undersecretary Malfoy" at work, and "Mr Malfoy" should we meet outside

b) I will be expected to be there before he gets in at 8am every morning, with his mail already sorted and in his in-tray, and a hot cup of coffee on his desk, and

c) My outfit for the interview was suitable, and I am to maintain that level of professionalism at all times at work.

Please thank Harry again for letting me raid his wardrobe. You're right. Even the well-dressed Wizard-about-town doesn't need business suits in the middle of the Peruvian highlands. And judging by that lovely photo of the pair of you in those bayeta pants and Chalecos, you won't be wanting to come back to boring British fashions in a hurry. I promise to replace any that get worn out, although I think that's unlikely.

But once more I owe you massively. I did leave Britain partly because the rules and regulations about where I could work, what I could do and the requirements for a chaperone - like I was some sort of wayward teenager with no sense of control - anyway, it was getting blindingly obvious that I could not fight the system by myself, and it felt as if everyone else was quite happy to accept the changes. But I still can't believe that after fifteen years, it's _worse_. That witches are not allowed to work at the Ministry because they might _distract the male workers from their duties_. And the clothing rules! Fair enough, it's not as if I would be likely to wear a mini skirt and leggings - but who are they to dictate that I can or cannot wear that?

Sorry. It's been a bit hard to get used to. I really _like_ wearing men's suits, and speaking in a gruff voice, and being called "sir" - but I shouldn't have to do this just to get a job. So plan A is in effect. I work my way up the ministry, and try to change it from within.

And much as I'd love to, I shan't be giving Draco your love. Too suspicious-making.

Much love to you and Harry, and give my best to all my students at the school. I miss them terribly, but I have no doubt Harry is doing a sterling job teaching them in my stead. And do try not to pick all the _Murpheuspa Detatus_ plants at once. Leave a few for the alpacas to browse around. And no chasing the guinea pigs. Or eating them. Please.

Love

Hermes Stewart (Hermione Granger that was :-)

* * *

12 Grimmauld Place

Jan 13th, 2017

Dear Severus,

Just a quick note to let you know how this week is going, and oh what a week! If ever there was a time that I regretted turning that time-turner back in, this was it. I'd need 200 hours a week just to get all Draco's jobs done, and then another 100 for myself!

Percy has turned into quite the officious snob. He lords it around the department, loading work on people at a moment's notice, especially things he's had on his desk for a month and which are now desperately urgent. Poor Draco - sorry, that should be "Poor Undersecretary Malfoy" - spends half his time ringing the other departments asking for extensions, and the other half madly trying to finish the reports in time for anything. And that's not such a bad thing, either. I'd barely been there half an hour on my first day when he was asking me to look over something he'd written. He must have done it at four in the morning or something. It was terrible: lousy grammar, convoluted sentences (even for Ministry work), typos and missed spelling. I thought such things were impossible with the Kwik Kwills they all use, but apparently the Kwills read the spelling from the dictator's voice, and are as prone to mistakes as a human. I rewrote half of it, polished up the grammar, fixed the worst of the long and tortuous passages, and passed it back - and he loved it.

Stupid me. Guess who's had to do all the proofreading and rewriting since then. At least I know I'm useful.

Anyway, it _is_ the busy season right now, and should calm down after the last of the annual reports are handed in next week. Mr Undersecretary tells me he has a special job for me to do on Monday, so I'd best be in on time, with his coffee ready on his desk.

Love to you and Harry. I miss you both terribly,

Hermione

* * *

**Undersecretary Malfoy**

**To do List - week beginning 17th January 2017**

* Finish the report on the differences between Muggle Red Tape and Ministry procedures

* Write up Stewart's probationary first week assessment

* Create a presentation for the Minister on the pros and cons of revealing the existence of the Wizarding World to the Muggles. _(Note: the Minister wants the conclusion to be "not a good idea at the moment". Make sure it's written that way.)_

_What in the name of Merlin's fat and pendulous is a "Presentation" anyway? Ask Stewart.  
_

* Write a love letter to Astoria_ (How to deliver it? Owls? Floo? Stewart, of course!)_

* Buy flowers for Mother.

* Dinner with Mother Wednesday night. _(Whatever I do, don't ask about Father. She still can't stand that he left her for that mudblood Granger.)_

* * *

**_From: Undersecretary Malfoy_**

**_To: Stewart_**

**_Date: 17 Jan_**

**_Re: Briefing for the Minister_**

You are probably aware, from our conversation the other night, that the Minister wants me to give a presentation to the senior staff next week on pros and cons of revealing the existence of the Wizarding World to the Muggles. While I am quite capable of creating such a thing myself, I think this would be a good opportunity for you to demonstrate some of your own skills by creating this "presentation" yourself.

It needs to be clear, concise, and engaging. It needs to be easy to understand. And here's the difficult part - it needs to come to the conclusion that it would be a _very_ bad idea to let the Muggle world know about us. It's all very well that some people have these outlandish ideas, but the Minister has made it clear that he wants no changes to the way things work for quite a while. He feels that the dangers far outweigh any slight benefits that the contact might bring.

I trust you know what to do.

I have attached the current files, and would like to see a working draft by tomorrow afternoon.

DM

* * *

12 Grimmauld Place

Jan 17th, 2017

Dear Severus,

Well! My goodness! I hardly know where to begin.

First of all, Draco-the-Undersecretary had me create a presentation for the Minister about whether it would be a good idea to let Muggles know that we exist. In truth, I think he was supposed to do it himself and didn't have a idea about where to start. Silly boy.

Oh, aren't I supposed to think of our Esteemed Undersecretary as a boy? Even if he *does* look rather good in those robes.

What?

Humph. I had *two* drinks. That's not enough to make me more than a little …

Anyway, took the presentation to him, and he wanted to discuss it after work. It's a good thing I don't have a social life or anything, so we headed for the Cauldron and talked - or rather, he talked a load of piffle, and I listened. As he was feeling unusually generous and buying the drinks, I let him.

He liked the presentation - he was just after some advice. So let me give you the gist of it…

DUSS (Dear Undersecretary SIR!) (Stuff it - I'll just use "**D**")

HWPA (Hard Working PA) (Hereby shortened to "**H**")

**D**: So, my family wants me to marry this witch.

**H**: Oh?

**D**: Astoria Greengrass. Her sister was at Hogwarts at the same time I was. Daphne. I wasn't that interested in her - I had … other fish to fry.

**H**: Really? (sips drink)

**D**: Anyway, I have to do something about it. Court her. Let her know that I'm serious in my attentions, and willing to do the right thing.

**H**: But do you love her?

**D**: Love? Not really. I … like her. She's not bad looking. It could be worse - Father was making noises about my marrying Marietta Edgecombe, but she's never looked any good since that thing with the pimples… oh, I say, Stewart, you've spilled your drink. Let me get you another. Anyway, I could have coped with the look, I suppose, but since Father went off with that Granger M… Goodness, Stewart, you *are* clumsy tonight. You should pick those peanuts up and I'll get us a new dish. Anyway, anything Father suggested is out of the question now, so I suppose I'd better try for Astoria. And for that, I need your help.

_It's a good thing I wasn't drinking at *that* moment, Severus, or I would have spilled it all again!_

**H**: What sort of help, Sir?

**D**: It's "Mr Malfoy", Stewart. We're out of work now. I need to … write things for her. Love letters. Telling her how lovely her eyes are, or her breasts, or maybe her voice? And then you need to deliver them for me.

**H**: I can do that.

**D**: As my envoy.

**H**: You don't just mean "Deliver", do you?

**D**: Deliver, read to her, praise her, do the things you need to, to make her fall for me.

**H**: But what if she doesn't like it?

**D**: Oh, come on, Stewart. Haven't you had a girlfriend before?

**H**: Um … No. No, not really.

**D**: Never?

**H**: Well I've had a couple of bo… er... I suppose - I've never found the right one, Mr Malfoy.

**D**: Well, consider this your practice run. But don't you even *think* of trying anything.

_And at that, I just shut up and kept drinking. Come to think of it, I probably had more than 2 drinks. Or three. But he paid…_

Honestly, Severus, I had to think so hard on my feet. I don't think he noticed my little slip. It's not like he's seeing anything but "Stewart". But now - now I have to go and write love poetry for Astoria Greengrass - and read it out to her!

That's on Friday. The presentation is Thursday. I am *so* tempted to slip in a few fast subliminal messages. Better not, though - I'm already stretching the point by using Powerpoint with a few "additions". But then - I haven't written poetry for _years_. Maybe I could send you a few examples, and you could try them on Harry?

And send a couple of vials of that hangover potion of yours, could you? I might need them.

Love to you and Harry.

* * *

12 Grimmauld Place

Jan 20th, 2017

Dear Severus,

Your message arrived just a little bit too late - I'm afraid that particular meeting room won't be usable for about a month, while they clear all the last traces of the Dark out. Luckily, they think that the sudden appearance of Dementor-like beings was related to a disgruntled faction determined to bring back the worst of the Ministry's misuses from the days of Voldie, rather than having been summoned up by that Powerpoint document. No-one was hurt, thanks to some very fast containment spells and the wand-based version of "_Control-Alt-Delete_"! I shall be keeping that incantation handy for the future, you can be assured. And who knew that a Muggle-based program had such dangerous powers? Sheesh - surely _someone_ could have warned us!

The rest of Thursday was spent with the Under-secretaries locked in a meeting to try and work out who the mole is. I don't think they came to any conclusion, but Draco was rather shaken by the whole thing. It gave me some space to get on with the poetry, though. Alas, my poetry writing skills … let's put it this way. If I'd ever had to write poetry at Hogwarts, I wouldn't have had the marks that I did. So I hoped she hasn't heard of Shakespeare, and started with "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"

And then, on Friday, I went to see her.

Oh.

My.

Goodness.

I was admitted to her chambers, while she was still dressing, mind you, and had to stand with my back to her and read the poem while she decided which robes to wear. Then she started asking me which outfit looked better, which meant I *had* to look, but she was wearing next to nothing, and holding the two items up.

And she gave me this look, Severus. If I didn't know better, she knows _exactly_ who I am.

But she didn't say anything. Just took me back downstairs, and had her house-elf fetch tea and cakes, while she started up a discussion on the emancipation of Witches and how unfair it was that the females aren't allowed to work once they're married, and how they are just as capable… She's a regular Suffragette! But she kept leaning over and patting my hand and touching my face…

Anyway, she's asked me to tell Draco that she won't have him unless he agrees to certain conditions that encompass her rights once they're married. And I agree with her! So this is going to get *interesting*.

Next week, we have to make that presentation again. Guess who will be spending the weekend setting it up on boring old-fashioned butcher's paper?

Love always,

Hermione

P.S. You'd best let me know if there are any other Muggle programs that can cause such nasty effects. I wouldn't want to set anything nasty off by accident again.

* * *

**Undersecretary Malfoy**

**To do List - week beginning 23th January 2017**

* Try to do that presentation again.

* Have the security details perform a thorough search of the Ministry beforehand, to ensure none of that radical bunch get in again.

* Write a report for the Minister on any cost-effective measures that might be made by using Muggle suppliers instead of Wizarding ones. _(I know for certain that half of the cost of parchment could be saved if they'd just use photocopy paper instead. Maybe Stewart can think of some more.)_

* Send Stewart back to Astoria with some sort of flowery declaration. Hope that it distracts Astoria from these silly emancipated ideas of hers.

* Buy flowers for Mother. Not roses. She's sick of roses. They remind her of Father.

* Dinner with Mother Wednesday night. (_Perhaps offer to take her to the theatre or something one night? No idea what's available - ask Stewart_.)

* Pub Tuesday night. With Stewart. He's funny when he's had a bit to drink. He's cute. Or something. Wizards aren't "cute".

* * *

12 Grimmauld Place

Jan 24th, 2017

Dear Severus,

Is there something about Draco you haven't told me?

I'm only asking this because he was a bit … odd … tonight at the pub. As in … we had a booth, and he put me in the seat on the inside then sat next to me (so he could show me the diagrams, and hear me over the pub noise, he said) and he kept making sure I had to get out by climbing over him. Five. Times.

Look, it's not that I'd mind, except that he is a) supposed to be courting Astoria, not chatting up his subordinate and b) I didn't think he swung that way. You know I don't mind - if I did I wouldn't have given you and Harry my blessing - but it's just such a shock. Of course, I could be imagining things, making too much out of an odd situation, a couple of interesting looks, and then once he'd had a few, he pinched my bum.

Really.

I think it's bruised.

And while he was discussing things about tomorrow's replacement presentation, he was pressed up so close that I found myself squished into the corner.

And… Severus, can you tell me what *really* happened to Lucius? Draco keeps making comments about me - about Hermione, that is - and I'm pretty sure I *didn't* run off with him. I would have noticed my shampoo getting used up a lot faster than it does.

Speaking of lost people, I've finally worked out who I look like. If the hair's short so it's not frizzy, I'm a bit like Ernie McMillan. No idea where he is now, but at least I've worked it out. Maybe that's how I got my wizarding abilities in the first place: maybe one of his ancestors dallied with a Muggle or something :-)

Anyway, my head is spinning, and not all from the alcohol Draco was plying me with. Love and hugs as always

H

25/1

P.S. Just adding a couple of lines before I send this. This morning, Draco was hung over as anything, and wanted to know if he'd done anything he shouldn't have. I just smiled and said "nothing you need to worry yourself about, Sir" as I went about my business. He blushed.

He's really rather cute when he blushes.

* * *

**Undersecretary Malfoy**

**25 January 2017**

Note to self:

1) Don't drink too much with the underlings.

2) Don't get so drunk that you start making passes at Stewart. Even if he _does_ have a cute arse. Which he doesn't. Boys don't have cute arses.

3) Work on the Astoria thing. Once you're married, you can play around as much as you like.

With girls.

4) Don't play with boys. It's bad for your Ministry career.

5) Don't call Stewart "cute".

* * *

12 Grimmauld Place

Jan 26th, 2017

Dear Severus,

You. Are. Kidding.

Surely.

How long has this piece of scurrilous rubbish about me been going around? And why the fuck didn't you tell me before? Running away with Lucius? Digging up ancient Egyptian relics and using them to make fakes to sell to all the potion sellers?

_THAT'S_ the reason everyone thought I'd broken up with Ron?

He spent week after week practising with the Cannons, to the point where I had seen less of him than I'd seen of you! And I was expected to sit and wait for him like a good little girlfriend? I told you the rest, about taking the opportunity to do something crazy, and heading out to teach at a girls' school in Peru for six months while the Quidditch season was on. Do you know I had been in Peru for _FOURTEEN WEEKS_ before Ron realised I wasn't around? He sent me a letter that said he was tired of trying to please a girlfriend who obviously didn't value his hard work, and that he considered the relationship off. But I had no idea that the rumours about me said I'd gone off with another man.

And for the record? Teaching at that school was the most rewarding thing I have _ever_ done in my life. There was something very satisfying about leaving the school as the first of my students were coming back as graduate teachers. I'd always meant it to be self-sustaining, and I did it. And some of the rest have gone on to become politicians, and scientists, and even those who have just gone back to the farms are now using up to date methods to stop the soil degradation and the erosion. I don't think the alpacas have ever looked healthier.

But no, no-one ever told me about the rumours. No wonder Draco hates me so much. Hermione, that is.

Could you do me a favour? Could you send a half-dozen of the school brochures over, the ones with my farewell speech? I think it's time I educated my boss.

And now, I need my sleep. I'm seeing Astoria again tomorrow. I have to say that I'm rather looking forward to it. It's so nice talking with another sensible, intelligent woman.

*hugs*

H

* * *

_From the desk of Astoria Greengrass_

_Greengrass Mansion_

_Chelsfield, Kent_

_27th January 2017_

_Dear Mr Stewart,_

_How brief your visit was today! I quite enjoyed your lovely voice and the poetry was divine! I'm sure there was some deeper meaning in the description of the compasses as they "leaned and hearkened after it"._

_Won't you come for dinner tonight? I would appreciate the company. Shall we say 7:30 for 8?_

_Regards_

_Astoria_

* * *

12 Grimmauld Place

Jan 29th, 2017

Oh god.

Severus?

You're going to kill me.

Or at the very least disown me.

Ok, from the top. I went to Astoria's and I read her some more poetry. John Donne. No, there was no Andrew Marvell, and _definitely_ no Rochester. I'm not that stupid. But she had me sitting next to her on the chaise longue, and as I read, she put her hand on my knee.

And she kept leaning over me.

For a moment I thought she was going to kiss me. What she did do is slide her hand up so far, it touched the packing. I jumped, she blushed and stood, and thanked me for a lovely time, and I headed out.

And then I got the invitation. She wanted me to come for supper. Dinner. Something.

I wasn't going to accept it, but it made me feel very awkward around Draco, and he was acting strangely as well, so I wasn't at all surprised when he suggested a very early end to the day and a celebratory drink at the pub.

(Well, we had pulled off the replacement presentation brilliantly.)

The pub was packed, and we ended up in one corner, drinking away (Draco had very sensibly bought a bottle). I must have had about four glasses and was about to make my apologies - I was going to go to Astoria's and tell her the truth - but then someone at the other end of the pub started a brawl. D and I nipped through the back door and out into the alleyway to escape, except that I tripped over a cat.

And Draco tripped over me.

Now I blame the alcohol. But I was a bit worked up over Astoria, and all I can imagine is that Draco was a bit worked up over me, but when he fell on me, and then started to push himself up, he said something like "Oh, what does it matter anyway", and he kissed me.

Hard.

Severus, I enjoyed it far too much. It was lovely to have a man wanting me again, even as another man. I reciprocated rather heartily, and he made some mutterings about "can't go back to my place."

Actually, to tell the truth, by this time I was sozzled enough that I'd forgotten he didn't know who I was. So I took him back to my flat.

So there I was, barely able to open the front door for the pair of us snogging like a couple of randy teenagers, and he suddenly stops and looks me in the eye and says "You've had boyfriends, haven't you?"

"Of course." I was too drunk to realise what he was saying, but then…

"I haven't. I don't know what to do. Can you show me, Stewart?"

At that point, I cracked up laughing, which was entirely the wrong thing to do. Draco looked embarrassed, and was about to run away, but I caught him by his tie and dragged him into my place. I don't think I even got the lights on before we were writhing away on the floor. I hadn't realised how much I needed to feel him (Sorry, Severus, but you're going to have to put up with this. Merlin knows I heard the sordid details of yours and Harry's first night together often enough).

But I thought I'd let him down gently, so I put his hands on the chest bindings and asked him to unwind them.

Which he did, looking puzzled. Or as much as I could tell in the dim light.

I had his trousers down pretty darn fast, and my lips around his cock before he could protest. Funnily enough, he didn't. Protest, that is. He seemed to enjoy it.

And then I slipped off the trousers, and his hands went to my front - and he screamed.

_"OH NO OH GOD OH NO YOU'RE A EUNUCH!"_

At which point I lost it completely, burst out laughing, put his hands on my breasts, gave him half a second to recover, then proceeded to snog him and ravish him thoroughly.

OK, I'm being nice. You don't get *all* the details. Suffice to say that it was a fun night, we collapsed into the bed (and then went for it again), we didn't really stir until noon, and all was fine until that bloody owl showed up.

Whose owl?

Astoria's.

Which worried the hell out of me, because I was certain it was going to be a scathing criticism of my failure to turn up for dinner the night before, and not sending any word either. So imagine my surprise…

_From the desk of Astoria Greengrass-Stewart_

_Greengrass Mansion_

_Chelsfield, Kent_

_27th January 2017_

_My beloved Hermes, last night was a wonderful night, and this morning was even better. My sweet, being your wife is the one thing I had not dreamed of, yet our marriage has only made life perfect. I look forward to seeing you again tonight, but this time, as your spouse._

_Ever yours,_

_Astoria_

I'm reading this and trying to work out what she's talking about, when Draco wakes up, looks over at me and asks "So who are you?"

"Hermione."

At that, he screams and looks furious, and I ended up having to use an _Incarcerous_ to hold him in place while I explained. Your brochures had turned up nicely in time, so I was able to prove my innocence. Mind you, I wonder who is off shagging Lucius silly…

Draco headed off home to get changed, to let his mother know that I wasn't the evil husband-stealing bitch she thought I was, and to work out for himself whether he was worse off shagging a wizard or a Granger. I started cleaning the place up, when there's a knock at the door.

And a screaming harpy behind it, who looks like Astoria when she's calmed down, but she wasn't going to now. Not when she'd run into Draco on the way down the stairs, and he'd calmly told her he was having an affair with Stewart now. It looked like she'd used the _Incarcerous _herself, and dragged him back up the stairs behind her while she found out what the hell her new husband was doing shagging her fiancé.

Of course, I had no explanation. I had an alibi - but then so did she. Pictures and all.

Which she showed us.

And there was a man who looked just like me, standing proudly with Astoria and with his arm around her. For all that it was a cold and miserable January day, he had his shirt open.

Which gave me an idea. I told her to look at me. Then look at the photo. At the shirt waving in the breeze. The pectoral muscles.

I hadn't yet re-bound my breasts, so I pulled a pigeon-pout that Camille Clifford would have been proud of. I'm sorry to say that it took her about 20 seconds to realise that, anatomically, I _couldn't_ have been the person she spent the previous night with.

Mind you, she still slapped Draco. And I didn't stop her. And neither of us turned a hair when Ernie McMillan turned up in the doorway and asked if his wife was in the room. He then explained that he'd been living under a pseudonym for the past 10 years, and had been calling himself…

(Get this)

Ernie Stewart.  
No bloody wonder. Ernie. Hermes. Dammit.

So there you have it, Severus. Astoria is married to Ernie, and loving it. Draco has agreed to let me keep working for him, and we'll even use it as a basis to try and get more women working in the Ministry. In fact, now that I'm not worrying so much about myself, I'm wondering if some of the other young men at the Ministry aren't also passing…

And Draco and I aren't rushing into anything too serious. Not yet. But we're willing to consider things. And shag like bunnies every night.

Besides, he's longing to catch up with you again soon. I've finally given him your love. He sends his back, although I think he's still a bit surprised about you and Harry. His problem :-)

All my love to you and Harry, and to the girls at school, and tell them I'll be over in a while.

Hermione/Hermes.


End file.
